


Let's take the time

by Kenzi_Ro



Series: HKM Stories [4]
Category: The Hobbit (2012), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Flower Crowns, Fluff, M/M, Thorin is a sap, lots of fluff, this is fluffier than a baby bunny-rabbit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-11
Updated: 2013-03-11
Packaged: 2017-12-05 00:19:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/716713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kenzi_Ro/pseuds/Kenzi_Ro
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thorin has a request to make of Bilbo. Bilbo thinks it's a very strange request. <br/>What follows is a small sliver of peace and love in the middle of a dangerous and exhausting journey.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let's take the time

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for this prompt: http://hobbit-kink.livejournal.com/702.html?thread=611262#t611262
> 
>  
> 
> In case anyone is not as inclined to wilderness travel/backpacking trips as my family, a _layover_ is a day (or more) where you don't move to a new campsite. It's a rest day; a day to sleep, relax, do mending/cooking, and recharge your batteries.

They had been 'officially' courting for three days when Thorin asks Bilbo to follow him away from the camp the Company had made for a much-needed layover. Quite ready to tell Thorin exactly what he thinks of such intimacies so early in a relationship should the Dwarf overstep his bounds, Bilbo allows himself be guided away from the rest of the Company.

Thorin's fingers pull gently at his wrist as he leads Bilbo to a small outcrop of grey stone. With the same gentle pressure, he pulls Bilbo behind them. Once safely hidden behind the bulk of the stone, he turns and cups Bilbo's cheek. "Mister Baggins."

Bilbo smiles and returns the caress. "Mister Thorin. I do hope you're not looking to impugn on my honor. I'd have to take a dim view if you were."

Thorin's lips twitch and his chest rumbles with a laugh. "Nay. Nothing so vulgar."

"Excellent." Bilbo tips his head up, inviting, and grins. "Carry on then."

Thorin chuckles lightly against his lips, but obediently pulls him closer for a kiss. Bilbo hums in contentment as they break apart. Thorin smiles and reaches behind him, growling softly when his hands meet bare rock.

"Thorin?"

The Dwarf turns away and mutters to himself. "I set them right here."

"What's - Thorin, what are you doing?"

"Looking."

"For what?"

Thorin's answer is a surprisingly bright hum as he holds up what looks like a bouquet of flowers. Bilbo catches sight of a flash of purple before Thorin separates half the bunch and carefully tucks it into his belt and it's hidden under his coat.

"Thorin?"

Thorin clears his throat and holds out the flowers. They're daisies, slightly wilted, but bright white in the sunlight. "Braid these into my hair?"

Bilbo blinks in surprise. "Excuse me?"

"Braid these into my hair." Thorin's face pinches for a moment as if remembering something. "Please."

"You want me to braid _daisies_ into your hair?"

Thorin doesn't react but holds the flowers a bit higher. "Yes."

"But you're a warrior! A - a king!" Bilbo stares at the daisies and can't for the life of him fathom why Thorin would want them braided into his hair. "It's … it's … these should be gems. Or something … something better suited."

Something flashes across Thorin's face, the corners of his mouth turning up in a smile as the hand with the daisies drops to his side. Gently he reaches out with his free hand and taps a finger beneath Bilbo's chin. "I know that my ways are strange you to, burglar, as yours are strange to me. Do you trust me?"

"Of course."

"Then trust that I do not ask for anything I do not want."

Bilbo purses his lips and can't help thinking of the hobbit lasses that sit together in the grasses and weave intricate crowns from their hair and flower stems. Those lasses are lovely, and occasionally they entice a lad to sit with them, but not a single grown hobbit would allow such childish decorations to be put in their hair. Especially not the fathers and uncles who suffer only the flowers of their youngest girl-children to be tucked behind their ears.

He wants to refuse, to argue with Thorin that this isn't proper, but Thorin's eyes are warm and that half-smile is still turning up the edges of his mouth. He's endearingly earnest in his request, and Bilbo can't bring another refusal to his lips.

Holding out his hand, Bilbo swallows his thoughts down. "H-how do you want them?"

Thorin puts the bunch of flowers into Bilbo's outstretched hand and turns his back to the hobbit, gracefully folding his legs under him as he sits. "A crown of sorts is most common, but it is up to you, Mister Baggins." 

"Alright. I think I can pull off a crown."

Thorin chuckles and pulls Bilbo's hand around to kiss his palm. "Anything you want, Bilbo."

Bilbo retracts the hand with a hot flush crawling over his cheeks. "Enough of that, or I'll never get this done."

Thorin chuckles again, but makes no more movement to distract him, instead pulling out the flowers he'd tucked into his belt and sets into his own work. As Bilbo threads the stems through his hair, Thorin's fingers deftly weave small blue violets and white clover into a delicate wreath that he places reverently atop Bilbo's curls when the hobbit declares Thorin's new hair style complete.

The little wreath feels strange on Bilbo's head; not light enough to be ignored or go unnoticed for long, but not quite heavy enough to keep from worrying that it will tumble off with the lightest move. Thorin tugs on his hair lightly when he reaches up to adjust it. "It will fall apart it you don't let it be."

"And how would you know?" Bilbo huffs, but obediently drops his hands. "Last I knew, _I_ was the one that came from an area prone to flower chain-making."

Thorin smiles at him, the fond, exasperated way he give his nephews sometimes. "There was a field of flowers not far from our home in Ered Luin. The children loved to drag any of the adults there whenever they had a chance." He puffed out his chest a little. "I'm quite adept at making flower chains. Dis still snaps stems when she attempts them."

Bilbo blinks. "There's a skill I didn't expect of you."

Thorin shrugs. "It's not much different than braiding together silver and gold."

Bilbo hums in agreement and takes a moment to look Thorin over. He doesn't bother to stifle his chuckle. "You look ridiculous."

He does, the white and gold of the daisies a stark contrast to the ebony of his hair, and the stems woven into a clumsy half-crown. Thorin smiles anyway. "Then I do so gladly."

"I wonder what the others would say if they saw you." Bilbo reaches up to tuck one of the daisies a little more firmly into the crown. 

Thorin catches his hand and presses a soft kiss to the palm. "I think they would congratulate me on my courtship being accepted."

"Oh really?" Bilbo raised himself slightly on his toes and pressed a kiss to Thorin's lips. "Shall we put that to the test?"

He pulls back and an eager light gleams in Thorin's eyes. The Dwarf nods once before grabbing Bilbo's wrist and tugging him in out from behind the rocks and in the direction of the camp.

They barely miss knocking Dwalin off his feet.

The three of them are silent for a moment. Then Dwalin shifts back on his feet, peering at Thorin's hair. "Are those-"

Thorin straightens ever so slightly. "Yes."

Dwalin stares for a long time. Thorin meets the other dwarf's gaze evenly, but when Dwalin fails to say anything, Bilbo begins to worry that he'd been right earlier, and the flowers were a mistake. 

Just as Bilbo begins to fidget, Dwalin smiles. A large, face-splitting, and vaguely terrifying smile. One that Thorin returns in equal measure. The two stand and Bilbo is witness to a strange face-off with their teeth gleaming beneath their beards.

Then, just as suddenly as he appeared, Dwalin turns away from them. Cupping his hands around his mouth he bellows. "BALIN!" 

The echo has barely faded before Dwalin is flat out sprinting towards the Company, manic smile firmly in place. "OUR KING AND BURGLAR ARE COURTING!"

Bilbo gapes and Thorin laughs as a jumbled mess of cries rise from the camp, half jubilant and half shouting for wagers to be paid. "Are they laughing?"

"Likely." Thorin's fingers rub warm circles on Bilbo's wrist. "I'd be concerned if they weren't."

"Why?"

"What reason would they have to laugh if they disapproved of the relationship?"

"Ah. I suppose you're right." Bilbo fingers tingle and he wiggles them in the sunlight. "What should we do?"

"We should go and present ourselves to them." Thorin murmurs, wrapping his arm around Bilbo's shoulders. "Before they search us out."

"They can't be than bad." Bilbo smiles and lets Thorin guide him forward. "They'll probably just want an explanation and to tease us a bit."

"No," Bilbo hears Thorin mutter as they draw close to the camp, "I expect Gloin will want to recount how lovely his wife looked with his flowers in her hair. Loudly, and at great length."

"It can't be worse than his soliloquies about his son."

Thorin blanches and his grip tightens briefly on Bilbo's shoulder. "The only thing Gloin loves talking about more than his son is his wife."

"Oh dear."

Indeed, when they step into the camp, there's a gleam of opportunity in Gloin's eyes and a resigned hunch to Oin's shoulders. Bilbo barely has time to wonder how many times the healer had heard this batch of his brother's stories, before Thorin's nephews are on them and he has to fight to keep his little wreath of flowers from being lost to the enthusiasm of the lads.

**Author's Note:**

> I tried to keep the flowers in this to those that could feasibly be found in the wild. I fudged a bit on the violets.
> 
> Flower meanings:  
> Daisy - innocence, loyal love, purity, faith, cheer, simplicity, beauty  
> Blue Violets - faithfulness, watchfulness, love, 'I'll always be true'  
> White Clover - "I promise", 'think of me'


End file.
